


St. Patrick's café

by windfall



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Family Drama, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 00:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10707936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfall/pseuds/windfall
Summary: A lot had changed in Jonny since his brother's passing. Patrick was there to help. At least he thought so...





	St. Patrick's café

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Don't be deceived by the fandom, it's me, Wind this time! My bestie, other half and beta, Fall loves hockey RPF and I made this little something for her. It's my first fic in this fandom so bear with me. I really hope you'll like it! Kudos and comments are appreciated.:)

The two men were sitting across from each other in the small room lit by the last rays of the sun. Just talking. Jonathan’s deep brown eyes flickered to the clock, hands hanging loosely in his lap. The other man, Charles cleared his throat as he leaned back in the grey leather armchair.  
\- So, tell me about your boyfriend! - he said. Jonny exhaled sharply through his nose and opened his trembling lips which struggled to form words.  
\- Patrick. His name is Patrick.  
\- Right. Tell me about Patrick. What does he look like? - the warm hazel eyes looked expectantly at the young man, who seemed to relax as he imagined Patrick smiling, healthy, alive.  
\- He has blue eyes...and his hair is sometimes blonde..sometimes ginger. Depends on the lighting. His face is kinda heartshaped. He is shorter than me. - Jonny kept his gaze on the clock. His heartbeat seemed to match the ticking. He liked to talk about Kaner. It always made him remember the good times. But his heart was also filled with longing. Jonathan blinked as he tried to clear the haze that always lingered around the memories.Only the rustling of papers and soft breathing could be heard as the a patient ear was waiting for Jonny to continue.

\- We met at a café. I was waiting for my order when he suddenly...he just appeared. Like...out of nowhere.  
\- Did you start the conversation? - asked Charles as he adjusted his glasses and took a sip of water.  
\- No. Yes. I don’t know. I just know that we sat at a small table and talked for hours. Time flew by. We were so engaged. People kept giving us weird looks. - running his rand through his hair, Jon looked briefly at Charles who smiled reassuringly. He wanted Jonny to feel comfortable and that he could tell him anything.  
\- What were you talking about?  
\- Music, Movies, Sports...specifically ice hockey.- chuckled Jon. That was something they were both passionate about. Toews was only 3 but he already loved ice hockey, sitting in his father’s lap cheering for his favorite team. He wanted to be a professional but his brother’s passing took his motivation and strength.  
\- What about his background? Did he...Patrick tell you where he grew up? Or about his siblings or what his parents do for a living? - Charles ran his tongue over his teeth and watched as Jonathan started to fidget with the strings of his blue hoodie.  
\- It’s alright. You can tell me.- he said reassuringly. He scratched his head tousling his silvery hair.  
\- No. I...I...no. - Charles saw that his answer was uncertain. He saw the confusion in the chocolate eyes, the furrowed eyebrows and the lip-biting. The young man didn’t remember. 

\- Ok. It’s Ok Jonathan. Why don’t you tell me about your relationship. What was it like? What was he like?  
\- He was very warm and loving. He is a good listener. He doesn’t talk much. But he is always full of smiles. - Jonny smiled sadly. He kept hearing their conversations in his head. The ‘I love you’-s, the teasing and the arguments. The arguments Jonny hated. Patrick would rarely argue back or say anything. He just let him vent his anger out as he stood there rigidly with wide eyes. As if Charles was hearing his thoughts, he asked:  
\- Did you argue a lot? - Toews’ breathing became faster, shallower. He gripped the armrests tightly, his fingertips turning white. He nodded swiftly and he turned his gaze towards the beige coloured curtains. Charles leaned slightly forward in his chair trying to make eye contact. Jonathan wanted him to stop asking. To stop making him doubt Patrick. Yet, he kept going on.  
\- Would you like to take a break Jon? - relief washed over the young man as he said ‘yes’. 

Dr. Charles Neil softly closed the door as he left the room. On the corridor two pair of concerned eyes followed him. Andreé and Bryan. Jonathan’s parents. After his brother, David’s accident, Jonny’s life went downhill. He started drinking and using drugs. Instead of being celebrated at parties he was thrown out because of his unmanageable behaviour. He was already a lively little boy who became a wild teenager and an untamable adult. He started having anger management problems which made him break things, thrash rooms while also harming himself. To treat this he got pills which made his brain mellow. It was like he ran on autopilot. The only thing that made him happy again was Patrick. Patrick who raised even more concern.

\- Doctor? - his parents stood up exchanging worried looks as they saw Dr. Neil leave the room. The psychiatrist adjusted his grey jacket as he turned towards them already knowing the cause of their concern.  
\- Mrs. and Mr. Toews! There is no reason to worry. We are just taking a break. Jonathan is fine. A bit overwhelmed but fine.- this seemed to ease the worry as they slowly sat back down holding hands. Mrs. Toews clutching the sleeve of her green cardigan with her other hand.  
\- Is the session going well? Did he talk?- she inquired.  
-Yes, it is. We are going slow but sure.  
\- What about this Patrick guy? Who is he? Or...what..? - added Bryan Toews. The parents didn’t know who Patrick was. They never even saw him. Jonathan talked about him. Patrick this, Patrick that. They even heard Jonny being on the phone with him. Dr. Neil sighed pinching the bridge of his nose as he explained briefly:  
\- I believe, Patrick is a defense mechanism. He lost his brother whom he loved dearly. He was lonely and as much as he denied, he needed affection. Adding the alcohol and the hallucinogens, his mind created a love interest,Patrick who is probably a mix of his brother and his ideal version of a boyfriend. The mother covered her lips with her hands, eyes wide, filling with tears. The father bowed his head as he put his arm around his wife. Charles put a reassuring hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze then excused himself to return to Jonny and to resume the therapy. Jonny was looking out of the window, gazing at the sky. He often did that. It made Charles wonder if he was interested in astronomy or just looking for his brother.

\- Jonathan. Please take a seat. - as he did Dr. Neil continued - Can you tell me main reason of your arguments? - Jonny took a deep breath as he said in a croaky voice:  
\- He...never stayed. We-we fell asleep together but when I woke up he was always gone. I would think he finally left but each time I came home he was already there. He often disappeared and reappeared. Like a vision.  
\- You know why is that Jonny? - he shook his head. Dr. Neil knew that they arrived the hardest part of the session. - Jonathan I would like to ask you something. Can you close your eyes for me? - Toews did just that his left hand clutching the sleeve of his blue hoodie, a habit he got from his mother.-I would like you to imagine the first time you saw Patrick. Just listen to my voice ok?  
\- Ok.  
-You are in that café, you smell the spicy scent of coffee lingering around. People are talking, their buzzing is mixing with the sound of the coffee machines. What are you doing Jonathan?  
\- I’m...I’m sitting at a table. Alone. Reading a magazine. I see ... the picture of a man. - Jonny was now shaking , his lips were trembling. Dr. Neil did not stop.  
\- It’s ok. Jonny. It’s ok. What is the name of the café?- he asked ever so calmly. Jonny’s eyes popped open, he gripped the chair tighter but his voice was rarely a whisper.  
\- St. Patrick’s Café. - silence took over the room but in Jonny’s head, a storm is taking over. He jumps up from chair, eyes burning with fire. - NO! -he yells! A word which he keeps repeating louder and louder as he starts pacing. Suddenly a chair got thrown at the wall. The mahogany table in the middle of the room toppled over by the storm inside Jonny. He started punching the wall making his knuckles bleed. Charles’s voice was swallowed by the pounding in Jonny’s head and his desperate shouting. Doctors rushed leaving the door open for the two scared parents to see the rage of their son. The rage that could only be calmed by a fantasy. Bryan secretly wished Patrick was real. That he could make this go away. They watched as they sedated their son and wheeled him away. As Andreé met the dead gaze of her son, tears welled up in her eyes again. Jonathan never became truly lucid again. That was the first time they met what was left of Jonathan Bryan Toews.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone! Only Dr. Charles Neil whose name I borrowed from Link Neal from GMM.


End file.
